


What I Want to Say (Without Saying 'I Love You')

by Alexilulu



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: 2-3 years postgame, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Creampie, F/M, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, everybodys graduated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexilulu/pseuds/Alexilulu
Summary: A late night becomes an early morning for two very close friends. Closer than close, friendlier than friends.





	1. Chapter 1

Ryuji comes out of sleep in a haze, his vision obscured by a mop of blonde in his face. A hand has been draped over his chest holding him down, the fingers dug into the fabric like a child clinging to their favorite blanket. Brushing the hair out of his face, Ryuji turns his head slightly to get a better look at Ann. She clutches him like a piece of driftwood in a storm, on her side with a bare leg hooked over his own and her chin nestled against his shoulder. She's got one of his shirts on, one of the old high school ones, and not much else. He doesn't even feel a bra from her chest pressed against his arm.

Huffing silently to himself, Ryuji settles back into his pillow. The midday sun punches through the tiny window high up on his wall, illuminating a small shaft of Ryuji's cramped bedroom. Moving out of his mom's apartment was partially independence but mostly practical; she felt it was her duty to maintain a home for the both of them, but his childhood home was way too big for the two of them, and his mom was working herself to death to keep it on a single person’s salary. So he moved out, and moved her out to an apartment in her budget. And now he lives on his own, so…this kind of stuff can happen. Sleepovers.

And other things.

Obviously.

Not that anything happened the night before; Ann cajoled Ryuji into breaking out his Monster Hunter cart for old times sake, and they co-op hunted some of the big game until the wee hours of the morning. At least the both of them work irregular hours so they can do this kind of stuff as often as they do, or they'd have to turn into coffee-fueled maniacs like Akira. Instead, they just sleep late the next day, usually on his bed but occasionally sprawled out in the main room on the couch.

Ann stirs on top of him, digging her nails into his chest for an agonizing minute before releasing him, yawning softly in his ear. “Hey.” Ann says in a small voice, not moving.

“Hey.” Ryuji mumbles, staring at the ceiling. He resists the urge to be petty and get out of bed, to disappear silently into his tiny kitchen and make eggs passive-aggressively until she leaves.

They had a fight last night.

Over Monster Hunter, of course. What else would they fight about? Their feelings?

Ann was talking shit about his game skills, as she does, and Ryuji talked shit back, as he does. They've done this for years, across years and consoles and iterations of the game and others like it. Ryuji likes big, slow weapons like the hammer and gunlance, but Ann loves the fast, high damage stuff like dual blades and now the insect glaive. They don't touch the charge blade anymore by mutual agreement, not after the blowout battle they had in middle school about it when it was first introduced in 4U and still ludicrously powerful. They didn't talk to each other for a month after.

It's stupid. They both know better. And yet, tempers flared, and Ann said he's too slow to kill monsters as fast as she wants to be doing it, and he took it personally, so he hit a nerve on purpose in response, and they went to bed furious. Well…he went to bed. Left Ann a futon in his front room/kitchen and went into the other room, slamming the old school sliding door so hard it actually popped out of the rail and got stuck, like it does, because his apartment is kind of crappy.

But, here she is. And he knows she's sorry, and so is he. But putting words to it…

That’s not their style. Usually.

He extracts the arm Ann slept against from between them, and Ann makes a small noise of surprise when Ryuji pulls her directly to his side and drapes his arm over her shoulder. “…Thanks.” She cranes her neck to kiss him on the cheek, and he murmurs an acknowledgement. “I'm still so sleepy. Don't get up, okay?”

“Don't you have a job today?” Ryuji closes his eyes, the only sensation on his mind the way she occasionally moves her bare leg up his own, then back down, like silk rubbing against him.

“Shoot was canceled. Director's got the flu and he's one of those auteurs who won't let anyone else take care of it.” Ann talks into his neck, her hand still on his chest. “I…don't want to leave yet.” She says this even more quietly, like lowering the volume might make it less true.

The unspoken portion of what Ann is getting at is obvious, even to Ryuji. You know someone as long as he has known Ann, you know what they're too afraid to put words to. Her parents are out of town (as always), and her friends—their friends—are all busy people, in college, running businesses or international hacking organizations or opening galleries or running corporations. She's chasing her dream, but is it big enough for all these incredible people she's found in her life? Or are they going to leave her behind…again.

Ryuji's right there with her. He was never going to make it to college without a sports scholarship, and any chance of that dried up the second he gave Kamoshida a reason to ruin his life. So…those who can't do, teach. The gym he uses to stay in shape hired him to do one on one personal training, and he works a few days a week for 10 hour stretches, catering to the random schedules of a dozen people instead of setting his own. It's rewarding, and he likes the job, but frustrating in so many ways. He's always been more intuitive on these things, and trying to explain why you load up on protein after working out or the importance of pre-workout stretching doesn't click as easily as it should. So…he’s getting left in the dust, too, in his own way. It gets to him, even when he tries to laugh it off. He feels so little when he hears what everyone else is up to, like a kid who never grew up, still playing with toys.

So he doesn't move, and neither does Ann for a long time, until she shifts upward, placing her lips in gentle, lazy kisses that start at his collarbone and trail up his neck. He murmurs without words, a long consonant of enjoyment, and Ann laughs quietly to herself.

“Get your face down here, you dope, I can’t reach you from here.” Ann sucks on his throat for emphasis, and Ryuji inhales shakily when he feels teeth nip him lightly. He slides himself onto his side and down the bed to her, their lips meeting eagerly. Even with as little sleep as Ryuji has gotten, he feels more awake than ever when Ann’s hand slips under his shirt, a hand cupping his pectoral and her nails biting into flesh. He responds in kind, brushing Ann’s mane of blonde hair away from her neck and cupping her cheek with one hand, his calloused thumb brushing across silky smooth skin.

Ann murmurs something into his mouth under her breath between kisses, too quick for him to catch. But it sounded like something he’s thought before. Thought about Ann.

“What?” Ryuji pulls back just a little, meeting Ann’s eyes, and she blinks away tears.

“I—I don’t want you to leave, either.” Ann’s voice cracks, and she looks away, shutting her eyes. “I’m being stupid, but I, I can’t, I don’t want to be alone right now. I just—”

“Hey.” Ryuji kisses her cheek as gently as he can manage. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s still you and me against the world, right?”

Their oath, in middle school. The day Ryuji showed up to school with his bleached hair, ran off the people trying to bully Ann, he made a promise. He wasn’t going anywhere. The world and all the shitty kids and shittier adults can go fucking hang, because nobody gets to treat somebody like they did Ann, back then. So they stuck together. The girl whose parents were always gone—the oddity, blonde hair and fairer skin—and the boy who had nobody from the start, an outcast from the moment people heard the rumors.

He wasn’t always able to be there for her. He knows it, she knows it. They made time, but Life gets in the way. Track took over his life at Shujin, and he got busy, and Ann wasn’t able to always be there for him either. But they were OK, mostly.

Until they weren’t. Until Kamoshida.

Ann sniffs loudly, and Ryuji pulls her to face him again. “Seriously. I’ll never make up for abandoning you back at Shujin, but I’ll fuckin’ try. So…” He brushes away tears with his thumb as they roll down Ann’s face. “I’m sorry. For last night, for everything. I—” Ryuji’s mouth hangs open, as he fights to say the words, the words that have been on his mind every time he thinks about Ann since the day he charged a bully with a wild haymaker that scared more than it hurt. But she kisses him again, furiously, and the words die in his throat. Ann grabs fistfuls of his shirt and rolls onto her back, pulling Ryuji on top of her, and Ryuji is more aware than ever how hard he is when his cock hits her thigh through his boxers with a nerve-rattling slap and Ann whines into his mouth, a sound of need he knows all too well.

“Ryuji—” Ann pulls him to her more insistently, talking into his mouth between kisses. “Please, just stay and—” She reaches down between them, yanking Ryuji’s boxers down and seizing his cock in one hand, giving it a hard stroke that makes Ryuji whimper into her throat.

“You wanna—” Ryuji starts, but another pump makes him stop mid-sentence and lean his head against Ann’s shoulder, gasping. “Ok, hang on—” He leans away to try to get condoms from the side table, but Ann pulls him back by the collar with her other hand.

“How much clearer do I have to be?” Ann growls at him with a watery glare, eyes holding back a flood.

“I was gonna get a—” Ryuji shuts his mouth, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” He sits up, pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion and settling back into place on top of her. Ann doesn't even bother taking off her panties, pulling them to the side and dipping a finger into herself, squirming under him and panting until she pulls it back out, dripping wet onto her stomach.

Ryuji reaches down between them, taking her hand and bringing it up to his mouth. He pulls that wet finger into his mouth and sucks noisily until the only thing left is saliva. Ann pulls her hand away from his mouth with a pop, and places it on the crown of his head, gentler than he expected given how forceful she was being just a moment ago.

“Ryuji, I l—” Ann whispers.

“I know. Me too.” Ryuji reaches out to her, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. Ann closes her eyes and nods to him, then inhales sharply when Ryuji slides his cock into her, digging her nails lightly into his scalp. Without opening her eyes, Ann nods again, and Ryuji starts moving his hips, slow and steady.

They’ve been doing this off and on for months. Ann comes to him when she needs someone who understands, really understands what it’s like to be abandoned, purposefully abandoned. Everyone else has lost someone, of course, that seems to be the commonality that brings them together somehow, but…Ann’s parents choose, continue to choose to leave. Ryuji’s dad left without even a goodbye, never came back. The others…they lost someone, but it’s not the same. They can’t understand. Not in the same way Ryuji and Ann get each other. Have always gotten each other.

His mom always said that Ann was a sweet girl, whenever she came over. She came over a lot, in middle school. She never said why, but when he asked to come over to her place for once it became obvious. Her house was silent and empty, and Ann couldn’t bear it. That was the first time they ever kissed. She kissed him, and they made their oath then. In that moment, he hated her parents, just a little. They had to know what they were doing to her. Just like his father had.

So…they take comfort from each other. They fight, sometimes, but it never lasts. Ryuji can’t stay mad at her, and Ann always felt guilt like a knife in her chest. Ryuji’s never said it, but he knows how much Ann means to him, and Ann has to feel the same.

Right?

Ann moans in time with the movement of his hips, her face inches from Ryuji’s own. She rolls her head back into the bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut, her hand still buried in his hair, a tightly held fistful connecting them.

“Ryuji, Ryuji, Ryuji…” Ann mutters between breaths, opening her eyes and locking gazes with Ryuji. Her other hand reaches up and grabs his head on the other side, two fistfuls of hair and scalp. “Kiss me, please, please, I—” Ryuji slows his pace, closing the distance between them and letting her take the lead when their lips meet. Ann kisses him for longer than both of them can stand, Ann clutching his head like an anchor holding them both in place. Even so, he never stops moving, and he can feel her rolling against him in return, the little moans into his mouth each time their thighs meet driving him forward heedlessly, recklessly.

Ryuji pulls away for long enough to gasp in a breath, and Ann cries out, pulling his head back down to her shoulder and clutching his back, nails dragging across bare skin. “Ryuji, Ryujiiiii, I, I love you so much, I’m sorry, I, I’m gonna come, I—” He’s already on the edge, but hearing Ann say the words he’s never been able to allow himself breaks him, and he starts moving faster, grunting and gritting his teeth as he races to finish, heedless of the danger of coming inside her, until—

She cries out first, body seizing under him, and he follows moments after. Panting, Ryuji rolls back onto his side, pulling his boxers back up into place, disbelief written on his face.

“I’m—I. Shit. Ann, I didn’t mean to—” Ryuji stumbles over himself while Ann sighs contentedly, stretching her legs and curling her toes.

“Oh, stop. You’re so dumb.” Ann rolls over to face him, pulling the hem of the shirt she borrowed from him down over the mess of cum and fluids between her thighs. “Thank you, Ryuji. For being you.”

“I…” Ryuji frowns, putting an arm around Ann and pulling himself to her, resting his chin on the crown of her head. “Ann, I love you.”

“I know, you dope.” Ann sighs, leaning into him. “I’m glad you’re okay saying it. I couldn’t take it anymore, not telling you.”

“Yeah. Me either.” Ryuji inhales through his nose, breathing in the scent of Ann’s hair, her sweat. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“Whatever.” Ann wriggles in Ryuji’s arms, scooting away. “Okay, enough mushy shit, I gotta clean up the mess you made.” Ryuji releases her, and she crawls to her feet, stretching her arms over her head. He watches her walk slowly over to the sliding door, pulling it open. She pauses in the entryway, turning back to Ryuji with a smirk. “Wanna see if your shower can fit 2 people in it?”

He knows he doesn’t deserve her, deep in his heart. She’s too good for him by far. But…for now, he’s happy. So he stands, laughing and giving her a grin, and follows her lead. Just like always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither of them are very good at saying what they're trying to say without saying 'I love you', despite the title choice (from the song What I'm Trying to Say, by Stars, that Jaya cursed me with the dark knowledge of).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been mega blocked on other stuff, so I turned to an Old wip and revamped it, and did about 3k in 3 hours? Getting back in the saddle after having stuff be a struggle the last few weeks is kind of great, tbh. Hope you enjoy this little continuation of one of my favorite works I've done!

_ Ah, damn it. _ Ryuji resists the urge to slam the fridge door closed, sighing to himself. 

After they piled out of the shower (which does, miraculously, fit the both of them, but only if Ann is pressed against the wall, and he’s gotta be holding her up, so not really practical except as a very wet way to fuck), Ryuji promised breakfast while Ann took an actual shower (Ryuji got the brunt of the immobile showerhead during most of that, so he called it good). That said, with the current state of his fridge somewhere between ‘empty’ and ‘sparsely occupied’, the odds aren’t looking good for that. Well, maybe if she really likes unseasoned egg scrambles. How did he run out of condiments but still have eggs? It boggles the mind.  _ This is what you get for picking up garbage on the way home, you know. _ Ryuji can practically hear the rest of their friends chiding him for his eating habits. And his spending habits while they’re at it, since he’s only had takeout for the past week, shit, it’s a two-for-one special at the Junes when it comes to Ryuji’s poor life decisions.

Assholes. He loves them (mostly), but holy shit, y’all, lay off. Ryuji stands, stretching and tugging his sagging boxers up. Need to buy new underwear, too, damn it. At least Ann doesn’t give him shit if they’re full of holes. Well, thirsty teasing, sure, but not  _ actual _ shit.

Even the dry goods in the cabinets leave little to recommend themselves. Can you put instant coffee in an omelette? At least he’s got...rice wine vinegar? None of this is helpful, damn it. Bet  _ Akira _ doesn’t have to wonder what he’s gonna flavor his fuckin’ omelette with.  _ Bet Haru doesn’t even have to think about food most days, just gets out of bed and finds a five course breakfast finished for her. Shit, Futaba probably has a guy she pays in internet money to deliver food to her for every meal, and nobody’s gonna give her shit about her sodium intake. Except maybe Sojiro, I guess. _

“Anything lo—ok good?” Ann yawns mid-sentence from behind him, bare feet padding across the linoleum until she can loop her arms around his chest and peek over his shoulder on her tiptoes. “No dice, huh?” She squeezes tighter when Ryuji grumbles angrily. “Oh, calm down. We can go out for brunch! It’s fine.”

“I thought you wanted to stay in?”

“I wanted to stay  _ with you _ , bonehead. Besides, fresh air sounds good after a night in this dusty-ass apartment. And so does you in clothes. I can see your butt crack.”

“Hey…” Ryuji mutters sullenly, to Ann’s delight.

“God, you’re such a dork sometimes. I like your butt crack, okay? It’s just way too early for it. I need to have eaten before I see any boy bits.”

“You weren’t complaining an hour ago, y’know.”

“Horny Ann was in the driver’s seat, I can’t be blamed for her bad taste.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get dressed! Jeeze.” He tries to move, but Ann doesn’t let him go. “You know you gotta let me go if you want me dressed, right?”

“Lemme enjoy this for a minute.” Ann mutters into his shoulderblade, surprisingly pouty all of a sudden. They stay there for a minute or two, quiet, until Ann breaks the silence. “Hey. You know...I was just saying that, right? Last night.”

“Duh.” He’d be stupid not to. He’s known Ann for what feels like forever, even before their second year at Shujin. The shit they used to say to each other in middle school would have made any of the Thieves think they hated each other. Or worse. The stuff they say now doesn’t happen in front of others, for good reason. And they both know there’s no real bite behind it.

At least, that’s what they say to each other, afterwards.

“Ok.” She pulls herself tighter to him, pushing with her foot against the back of his legs. “Alright, one-two, buddy. Out the door.”

“What, like this?” He can feel Ann’s bra digging into his back, so at least she’s wearing underwear, but...no way in hell is he going even a centimeter outside in these ratty piece of shit boxers.

“Hell yes, like this.” He can feel her smile bloom against his shoulder. “Half-dressed miscreants wandering the streets of Tokyo in search of breakfast...getting in trouble...finding love. It’s our own little movie.”

“Yeah, well, the lead actress needs to fucking work on her line delivery.” Ryuji shrieks in pain when Ann bites into his shoulder and latches in as hard as she can. “OWOWOW STOP DAMN IT, I’M SORRY—“

* * *

It takes Ann a few blocks to realize that Ryuji isn’t slouching when they’re walking around, figuring out who’s open. He’s already way taller than her, so it’s not like he casts a different shadow on her, and he sticks right by her side so she can only sort of see him in her peripheral vision, so she only notices when he stops to pull out his phone and just google who is open for brunch on a Wednesday.

It’s...weird. 

Was his chest always that puffed out, or is that just what it looks like when he’s not trying to give himself a hunchback? It strikes her, watching him stand around in a muscle tank and shorts, just how much the gangly kid she knew in middle school filled out with a few years of growing.

Did she change that much, too? She doesn’t feel any different, not really. Still just Ann Takamaki, freelance model. Ryuji probably thinks the same thing. She’s just Ann, you know? The one who stands out, the one nobody wants to be around  _ because _ she stands out. She went out to lunch with Futaba once, and she stood practically at the other side of the train platform because Ann ‘draws the eye too well’. It broke her heart.

“Hey, pancakes okay? You’re not on some diet, right?” Ryuji says, looking up from his phone.

“You know I don’t do that shit, come on. Have you ever seen me refuse carbs?” Ann scoffs at the plainly ludicrous question.

“Uhh...no? Shit, I dunno. I only see you like once a week, y’know.” Ryuji stuffs his phone in his pocket and starts down the street again, not waiting for Ann. 

_ What the hell? _ She trails a step or two behind him, frowning.  _ Is he still...ugh. Damn it. _ She’s overthinking it. He’s just moody because he hasn’t eaten, that’s all. That’s why she’s so pissed he’s being dumb, too. 

Probably.

Once they get onto the main street, she realizes something else that’s different today. Nobody’s looking at her...but they are looking at Ryuji. It’s a weird feeling. Is it the tattoo peeking out of his tanktop, a design of interlocking stars on his pectoral he got as a final fuck-you to...well, everyone? Or it’s the bleached hair, or his perpetual scowl he has out in public? In all likelihood you can just take your pick. 

She gets it, in a way. Keeping her resting bitch mask up in public is a must, or all those looks turn far nastier. She can’t count the number of dirty looks she’s gotten from girls with their boyfriends too busy leering at her to notice, drunk or just plain disgusting men walking by muttering obscenities, and so many other, unaccountably more awful things. Playing the rude, scary foreigner is just...easier, some days.

Having Ryuji do it for her, be that magnet for attention...it’s weirdly touching.

* * *

“Finally…” Ryuji mutters under his breath, setting down his cup of water as the waitress sets out two heaping plates of fluffy, golden-brown pancakes in front of them both.

“Don’t be a dick.” Ann smiles to the waitress. “He’s just crabby because he’s hungry, sorry.” She leaves the table with a nod of understanding and a small wave but Ann can see her gaze linger on the scrap of tattoo poking out from under Ryuji’s shirt.

“Don’t apologize for me, damn.” Ryuji digs into his pancakes, talking around his mouthful. “I didn’t mean anything by it, anyway.”

“She doesn’t know that, dude. You’d think you know not to shit where you eat.” Ann rolls her eyes, cutting a strawberry on the side of the plate in half and spearing it with her fork. “I’m glad you finally stopped slouching, at least.” She picks at her fruit, watching Ryuji’s response.

Ryuji looks up from his plate, tiny eyebrow raised. “My back fuckin’ hurts after that shower, I was just stretching so it would quit.”  _ And you were joking about  _ my _ acting skills?  _ Ann thinks to herself.

“Uh huh. Is that why you wore the tiniest tank top you own? Try to look big and tough so your back muscles get scared.” Ann snags a blueberry off Ryuji’s plate, to no small amount of grumbling. “You were trying to look big and scary so people wouldn’t bug me, right?” Ann can’t help but smile when Ryuji chokes on his pancake, confirming her theory.

“S’not like that.” Ryuji says after he clears his throat. “I just. You told me about the shit people say in public awhile back. And we usually don’t go out together, so…” He shrugs. 

Ann eats in silence, and Ryuji watches her, eyebrows knit together. Finally, she looks up at him and smiles softly. “Thanks for caring. You should eat, dude, this is good.” Ryuji snorts, but relaxes and returns to his pancakes.

When they’re done, Ann takes Ryuji’s hand the whole way home.

* * *

After their brunch, they retire to Ryuji’s cramped living room, sprawled out on the couch together. Ryuji serves as Ann’s platform bed, her head resting between his pecs while she lays on her side, scrolling down her phone listlessly. They usually don’t stay together this long, after they have a night together. It’s kind of a ‘come and go’ thing for both of them both.

Or, it was, before this morning.

Ryuji shifts under her uncomfortably, moving her hipbone off of his dick and onto his thigh. “God, you’re heavy.” He watches her neutral expression shift into a sneer with a smile.

“Like you’re one to talk. How much do you weigh now?”

“95 kilo.” Ryuji responds instantly; he’s been rock-steady for months, not interested in packing more muscle on anymore. “10% body fat.”

“Meathead. Lean meathead.” Ann chides with a grin, and Ryuji clicks his tongue in reply. “Oh, calm down, it’s a compliment. Brains are made of meat too, you know.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t what you meant. You want a nerd, call Akira. Or Futaba.”

“Don’t want a nerd, dork. Besides, we look too good together. Did you see all the jealous singles on the way back?”

“Nah.” Ryuji looks away to the ceiling, closing his eyes. “That shit just makes me anxious. Let them look, fuck them if they have a problem.”

“But you care if they look at me.”

“S’ different. They just think I’m a fuckin’ hoodlum or a somethin’, they look at you and see a target.”

“Not when you’re there. They just see the shitty idiot the smokin’ hot model is dating and get pissed.” Ann shifts against him, rolling more onto her front until her breasts are squished against his stomach. “Not that you’re shitty, or an idiot. Well, sometimes.”

“Oh, thanks.” Ryuji opens his eyes specifically to roll them at Ann, who giggles. “Was this a date? Did we do a date?”

“I think we did. Not the most romantic thing I’ve ever done, but I’m not one for romance.” Ann locks her phone, tossing it on the carpet. Her other hand, though, is creeping into his shorts.

“Me either.” Ryuji meets her eye, raising one eyebrow and lowering it when her grin grows wider. “Alright, already, shit. Don’t gotta tell me twice you wanna fuck.”

“I don’t wanna fuck, I just wanna…” She slips her hand under the band of his underwear, palming his cock and kneading it into wakefulness. “Say thanks for today.”

“Seems an awful loooot like you—haah—wanna fuck.” Ryuji’s already blushing, licking his lips and breathing louder. Ann wrestles with his belt buckle one-handed until Ryuji reaches between them and tugs his shorts down without bother and kicks them off the end of the couch.

“You know, for a meathead you’ve got awfully cute reactions.” Ann slides off of his chest, sitting down in front of the couch on her knees. “C’mon, sit up, tough guy.” Ryuji scoots to the end of the couch, opening his legs wide around Ann and stroking himself slowly. Ann flicks his hand away with a smile, seizing his cock for her own and rolling her thumb against the tip. “Very cute.” She says, watching him squeeze his eyes shut even at the first touch of her hand. 

That’s always been part of the fun for her, with Ryuji. Honestly, even before she really knew him, just watching him in school was somehow a delight. He’s the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, bleeding and raw, and that extends to the rest of his life. She can always trust him to say what he’s thinking, no matter what (for better and for worse), to do the thing that in the moment feels right for him, and live with that. It’s terrible, sometimes, when he gets stuck in the wrong spot and sticks to his guns, but it’s admirable, in a way. 

And it’s endlessly entertaining.

So she plays with him a little more, teasing the hell out of him with fingers and lips, kissing and licking and stroking anywhere that will make him shiver or moan from long experience together. A fingernail slid up the bottom of his cock makes him swear like a sailor, but a flick of the tongue replaces it with a scrunched up face like a grandpa eating a lemon that nearly makes her burst out laughing. Her free hand slips between her own legs, flipping up her skirt and stroking up the front of her panties.

“Fuck, Ann, you’re killin’ me here.” Ryuji grunts out while she continues to toy with him, rubbing his cock right against her cheek and kissing the air next to it. His hands sitting on his thighs next to her are shaking, fingers working pointlessly towards nothing. 

“Oh, you love it.” Ann smirks, licking her lips. “Alright, you asked for it. Just try not to come too early, alright? I wanna have fun, too.”

Ryuji takes a long, shuddering breath when Ann lets his cock into her mouth, both hands clenched on his thighs. This is always her favorite part, watching him try to hold himself back while she works. When Ann takes the lead, Ryuji still struggles with letting himself put hands on her, even in the most gentle ways. So she makes a point of stopping, putting a hand over his hand until he relaxes, and placing it on her head.  _ Everybody needs a little encouragement, right?  _ It’s not like Ryuji would ever try to hurt her, not intentionally. They can shout all they want, namecall and drag each other to hell and back, but Ryuji doesn’t have that in him. Toughest looking guy she’s ever met, and he’s got all the hardness of a toasted marshmallow. 

Maybe that’s why she likes him so much.

She returns to his cock with vigor, ramping quickly up to a steady speed that results in Ryuji panting for breath and wrapping a lock of her hair around his hand, chanting curses in time to her movements. Everything about it is designed to drive him nuts: the movements of her tongue, the sudden stops to a long, slow movement that make his legs shake. Getting a rise out of Ryuji is always fun, regardless of context, and Ann delights in every moment of it, watching him from below intently. He doesn’t notice, eyes squeezed shut and face red as his ascot had been in the Metaverse, jaw working and teeth gritted.

_ God, I really do love him, don’t I. _ Ann snorts to herself when she releases him, giving the saliva-slick shaft a few pumps with her hand and looking up at him again, the taste of his precum on her tongue. “How you doing, sweetie?” She says, knowing full well how much he hates pet names.

“Rrgh, fuck…” Ryuji pants, his hand in her hair pulling her back down slowly. “Stop fucking with me, Ann. Please.”

“Well…” She smirks, kissing his tip. “Just because you said please.” Ann returns to her task, taking him as far as she can stand with every movement. His hand in her hair grows increasingly heavy, gripping her tighter by the moment until she can feel him on the edge, his cock flexing in her mouth and Ryuji’s hand holding her in place. 

He comes almost silently despite his noisiness until this point, hunched forward and eyes squeezed shut. Ann takes it all, swallowing the load and realizing right after that there’s nothing in the house to cover up the aftertaste lingering on her tongue. Grumbling to herself, she pushes to her feet while Ryuji collapses back onto the couch with a sigh of relief. 

“Hey, get up. You gotta go get me something to drink.”

“Wha? In a minute.” Ryuji mumbles from the couch, rubbing his face.

“Nope, nuh uh, now. You don’t have anything decent to drink, and your rancid nut is making me reconsider this whole ‘dating’ thing.”  Ann tosses his shorts into his face. Ryuji curses under his breath, standing and tugging them back on.

“So fuckin’ bossy. You want me to go grocery shop for you?”

“For  _ us _ , you doofus. I’m not working tomorrow, either, so I’m staying the night again.” Ann sits down in his spot, sprawling across the couch. “If you impress me with dinner, we can have some more fun.”

“Oh for— “ Ryuji starts to roll his eyes, then sighs. “Alright, alright. You sure you don’t wanna go with me?”

“Oh, very sure. I’ve got something to take care of.” She shoos him off with one hand while the other flips her skirt back up, giving Ryuji a good look at how damp her panties are.

“Well, hang on, I could…” Ryuji’s shoulders sag when Ann snaps her fingers and points to the door. “Oh, come on!”

“Nope! See you soon, big boy, it’s girl time.”

“Jeez…” Ryuji leaves, shaking his head. He can’t help but laugh as he heads down the street to the combination store. At least this part of everything about them is still the same.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an idea for a coda for all of this and their emotionally constipated bullshit getting Seen by their much smarted friends, so here it is.

“Sooo, what happened next?”

“Come on, don’t make me say it.” Ann stirs her drink, looking nervously away from Shiho Suzui herself. The lesbian best gal pal of Ann’s dreams/nightmares, who always seems to know how best to embarrass her.

They’re meeting for coffee today (and probably street food after, too, knowing both of their voracious appetites) now that Shiho back in town for a few days before she jets off again to go spot some more volleyball talent for the Olympic team. 20XX is right around the corner, after all. It’s a rare reprieve from all the other crap in Ann’s life that she’s always missed when its gone. Right now, though, she’s more than a little embarrassed.

See, Shiho’s been picking on her about Ryuji’s crush on her since high school. They both knew it was obvious from the day he bleached his hair a dry, crunchy yellow to scare off a batch of assholes by running up and shouting “LOOK AT MY HAIR TOO, YOU PRICKS!” at the top of his lungs. Then came the hanging out, and meeting Ryuji’s mom, and going over for dinner, and hanging out, and so on and so on. A few handjobs, what have you. It was always on the table, staring at her. Ann just politely ignored it, like someone who chews with their mouth open (Ryuji got over that particular habit by the last year of middle school, thankfully).

“Nuh uh, you already told me about you sucking his pud, you might as well go all in.” Shiho toys with her fluorescent pink mixed drink, grinning from ear to ear. She’s been like this _all morning_. Like a cat who can’t resist swatting her sister when she’s trying to sleep.

“You know what? Fine!”

* * *

“You know, Ann, I really love eating pussy.” Ryuji said masculinely, on his knees in the kitchen and totally buck naked.

“Oh, I know you do, darling. And I love the way you eat my wet, juicy pussy. But I want to hear you beg for it.” Ann purrs coquettishly, her perfectly shaved legs locked over that sweet box like a bank vault door made of perfect, flawless skin.

“Oh, Ann, please let me eat that wet, succulent, _juicy_ —”

* * *

“Hey! What do you think about getting out of here?!” Shiho takes Ann by the arm, dragging her out of the coffee shop and into the street. “Fine, fine, alright, I get it, you don’t wanna talk about it!” Shiho hisses, between gusts of laughter. “Your acting definitely still needs work, though, Ryuji wasn’t kidding. Like he would even know what ‘succulent’ means.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Ann links arms with her, grinning. “I never liked that Starbucks anyway. Never enough sugar in their drinks.”

“Nobody puts enough sugar in your drinks for you. So, you’re really just gonna go steady with Soba Kid?” Shiho can’t hide how funny she thinks it is to drag out _that_ terrible nickname. See, for months and months in their first year of middle school, Ryuji brought in soba bentos from a convenience store near home. And ate them. Loudly. So...Soba Kid. Of course, they only learned later that he was buying those because his dad just left, and his mom couldn’t make lunch for him anymore. She apparently wouldn’t let him take care of it himself until Ann brought up how Ryuji seems like a smart enough kid to take care of it himself during dinner one night. So, the Soba Kid moniker never stuck since he started cooking for himself shortly after…except Shiho still remembers. Mostly she just brought it out whenever he did actually make himself soba the night before.

“C’mon, it’s not like...that.” Ann demurrs, looking for anything to change the conversation. “Ooh, can we get takoyaki?”

“Yeah, but you gotta tell me more. I don’t get to see you for like 3 months after this, I could come back and you could be getting married for all I know.” Shiho leaves Ann to stand in the middle of the walkway in shock while she buys takoyaki, returning with two servings and offering one to Ann. She looks at it like it’ll bite her, but ultimately accepts it. “C’mon, I won’t be mean.” She chews, grinning. “Much.”

“Yeah, right.” Ann pops one into her mouth, chewing and talking around her food. “Well, it’s been like, 2 weeks, and nothing’s changed much? He keeps inviting me over for dinner, which is nice, I was getting really tired of takeout. He’s gotten pretty good at cooking somewhere in there, too.” She holds up a finger when Shiho’s mouth opens. “NO, we do not only eat soba!”

“Surprises upon surprises. I figured you were just playing him to keep yourself busy, you know. Well, whatever y’all got up to in second year you won’t tell me about aside.” Shiho shrugs. “It’s not really that big a deal, y’know. I’ve been dating since we moved, it’s not a big deal.” Shiho shrugs, even though Ann’s never seen hide nor hair of this elusive _girlfriend_ of Shiho’s. For all she knows, Shiho could be dating the daughter of the Emperor.

“Yeah, but you aren’t dating the second closest thing to a best friend you’ve had since you moved to Japan! This is weird for me!”

“Aww, Ann, am I closest?” Shiho grins, making a kissy face at her.

“Keep it up and you’re not gonna be in a minute.” Ann steals one of Shiho’s takoyaki and meets her eyes while chewing. “What do I do, Shiho.”

Shiho sighs, hanging her head. “Oh my god, you’re both so repressed, I can’t deal with this. How long have you two been fucking on the DL now?”

“Basically since second year. AFTER you left, thank you. So...4...5 years?” Shit, has it really been _that_ long since high school?

“Good shit, Ann. You’ve been stringing him along that far and he still loves you! You’re an animal.” Shiho says in a deadpan, finishing her takoyaki and holding out a hand for Ann’s trash. “You do actually love him back, though, right?”

“I mean...fuck, I guess so. We get each other. Being around him only drives me a little crazy. Dinners been good, sex has been even better than before. He’s talking about getting a better mattress now that I’m sleeping over most nights.”

“Hold up.” Shiho stops Ann, turning to her. “You sleep there ‘most nights’ now?”

“It’s only been 2 weeks, most nights is like...75%? Whats 11 out of 14?”

“80%.” Shiho responds automatically, then frowns. “Do you have clothes there?”

“Well, yeah, I left some stuff, I’d be crazy not to. And Ryuji does laundry a lot, because he works in a gym, so…” Ann trails off, worry creeping into her voice.

“Oh my god.” Shiho takes Ann by the shoulders. “Ann, you basically moved in with him!”

“Oh, shit.”

* * *

The last two weeks of Ryuji’s life have been _amazing_ . Even ignoring everything that’s been so great with Ann (the sex, the companionship, the closeness, just how fuckin’ _nice_ it is to have someone in the apartment besides him), everything feels like it’s going great. He’s on fire at work, his clients getting fired up right alongside him. Shit, his boss is talking about hiring someone for him to train and giving him a raise and a title, and...well, that’s it, actually, but it feels like a huge jump up. Anything would, really.

Nothing can break this good mood Ryuji’s found himself in.

Until Akira showed up to an appointment Ryuji didn’t know existed.

“Hey.” Akira nods as he walks in the gym, smiling that smug little ‘i know more than you’ smile he always seemed to back at Shujin.

“Hey yourself. Sign up with a fake name, huh?” Ryuji tosses his sweat towel onto the bench, shooting a ‘what the fuck’ look at his boss and smiling tightly to Akira.

“Wanted it to be a surprise. How have you been?” Akira claps him on the shoulder, and Ryuji resists the urge to shrug it off, to throw a punch. Well, not really. Maybe a playful shove that still manages to bowl him over, something they can laugh about that lets him blow off some anger at him.

He doesn’t hate Akira. Ryuji’s not sure he can hate anyone, let alone the guy who gave him a life to live again. He just...they went different places. And seeing him is just a very painful reminder how much further he went than Ryuji did. Up and coming business owner, partnering to open coffee shops across Tokyo with the CEO of Okumura Foods who is _also_ his bangin’ hot and incredibly sweet fiancee? Ridiculous.

He loves them, deep down, but some part of Ryuji still wants to hit him and scream WHAT HAVE YOU GOT THAT I DON’T in his face until he blacks out.

“Good, man, good. Real good.” So he keeps that fake smile up and nods towards the gym. “C’mon, old routine?”

“Sure.” Akira follows him over to the treadmill, picking a pace well above what he used to use when they trained together. Ryuji stands next to him, watching his form, finding nothing to criticize and hating that he can’t even do his job right now.

“So you’re checking up on me?” Ryuji starts, after Akira’s had time to ramp up.

“Just a little.” Akira says without breaking stride. “See how you’re doing. You don’t text much.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy. Getting my shit together, I guess.”

“Is it working?”

Ryuji snorts. “Yeah, definitely. I’m figuring out how to cook for somebody who isn’t on a protein diet, which is hard.”

“Ann?” Akira’s eyes flicker over to Ryuji, then back straight ahead. He’s only just beginning to sweat, a few minutes into his workout in a full tracksuit. “How is she?”

“Good. Great, honestly. She’s got bookings every week, near as I can tell. And she likes my cooking, somehow.”

“Live alone, you forget how good home cooking is. Turn it up, I wanna finish hard.” Ryuji reaches over and cranks the dial as far as it’ll go, and counts down from 30 for him, just like old times. Akira finishes in style, coming off of the treadmill light as an acrobat instead of a tangle of limbs crashing to the ground, as he did back in the days before Ryuji got him actually exercising. He does stoop to catch his breath on his knees like a mortal, at the very least.

“Arms next?” Ryuji looms over him like an executioner, folding his arms across his chest.

“Up to you. I want your recommendations.” Akira shrugs, straightening himself up. “I paid for the Ryuji Experience, after all.”

“Hah. I should take that, it’s good branding. You callin’ it the Akira Experience at Leblanc now?” Ryuji can’t help himself but to smile when Akira snorts in reply while they walk over to the bench press.

“Nah, Sojiro’d murder me in my sleep. It’s just Leblanc still. I like it that way. He gets all the weird PR interviews about the collab, I just make the business run.” Once Ryuji’s done adding weight, he spots for Akira, and they stay silent for awhile, Akira utterly focused on his task. Ryuji always remembers that look and thinks of it as the opposite of anxiety. If only he could tap into that same focus, sometimes. Like right now.

“C’mon, one more set. Push push push push...atta boy.” Ryuji assists the exhausted Akira in lifting the bar back into the rack, smirking. “You’ve been skipping arm day. Unconventional, I gotta say.”

“I don’t wanna buy new shirts, man.” Akira jokes, red in the face. “Haru likes me lithe, not beefy.”

“Nah, c’mon, you know better than that. You were never gonna get these no matter what you do, anyway.” Ryuji pats his bicep, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go buy a bar online. I was straining to pick Morgana up the other day, so maybe it’s a sign of the times.”

“Yeah.” Ryuji hauls Akira to his feet once he’s done recovering. “You wanna tell me what’s really up, or you gonna let me kick your ass with exercise some more?”

“Well, if you insist.” He doesn’t take his hand off Ryuji’s arm, holding him not necessarily ungently, but just hard enough to keep him in place. You’ve been really cut off, lately. You okay?”

“Well…” Ryuji gestures to the gym. “I got a job, a roof over my head, and I got Ann. I could be worse.”

“Ryuji.” Akira lifts his chin just a little, meeting Ryuji’s look. “Don’t fuck with me, okay? You’re pissed. I watched you with your last guy and you were fine, but you look like you could put a hole in a steel plate right now.”

“I’m…” Ryuji steps back, chastised. “I’m not pissed, okay? Not at you.”

“Then who, dude? I’ll kick their ass, say the word.” Akira smirks, that god-damned ‘let me make it better’ good-guy smirk.

Oh, the way Ryuji’s heartbeat spikes when he hears that. He clenches his fists without thinking.

“Then you better kick my ass, cause I’m pissed that I couldn’t keep up with you.”

He doesn’t see the punch coming, and before he knows it he falls like collapsing building as the whole world goes grey for a second, coming back to reality on the floor. He waves off the gym owner, looking up at Akira.

“Do I gotta keep hitting you, dude? I probably only got a few more of those in me after all that lifting.” Akira rolls his shoulder, eyes barely visible under his curls.

“Maybe. What the hell am I supposed to say, Akira? I’m a fuckin’ personal trainer to rich assholes and housewives, I make dick all and save less every week. You own a _business_ , dude, you married the CEO of the biggest fast food chain in Tokyo. You won, I’m still on the starting block.”

Akira mounts him in a near-perfect MMA hold, taking him by the hair and hitting him again. “Fuck that, and fuck yourself, Ryuji. You think I wanted any of this? I married Haru so that the board would have someone to bitch to about my wife and stop trying to get her removed as controlling shareholder, every single one of them makes my skin crawl. Sojiro’s just trying to keep the lights on and every one of them wants me to skin him alive on the rights to the cafe. They fuck up every single idea I present them, then blame me for it. I don’t sleep, most nights.” He sighs, releasing Ryuji’s head. “You wanna know the worst part?”

“Shoot.”

“I wish I had your life.”

“Fuck off.” Ryuji scoffs, refusing to meet Akira’s eyes until he grabs him by the jaw and forces him to.

“I’m serious. Ryuji, you set your own hours, stay in shape without trying, and live on your own, do whatever the fuck you want with your free time. I had to reschedule 3 meetings, 2 of which I was double booked for, to check on you. I want _that_ life.” He sighs wistfully, looking off into the distance. “Maybe someday I’ll be as cool as my senpai Ryuji…”

Ryuji snorts, shoving Akira off of him and crawling to his feet. “Shut up, you nerd. I can’t believe I ever wanted anything you got.”

“Me either.” Akira hops to his feet, dusting himself off. “We good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. And you still got half an hour on your session.”

“Ramen? I know a great place a few blocks down.”

“I bet I know a better one closer. We go to mine if you can’t finish 10 laps around the block before your session’s up.” Ryuji’s already out the door before Akira has time to protest.

* * *

“Babe? You know you shouldn’t just leave the door unlocked these days, jeez…” Ann closes the front door behind her, taking a deep whiff of the aromas wafting from the kitchen.

The apartment is seemingly empty, the only sound the crock pot bubbling on the kitchen counter and the distant sound of running water. Kicking off her shoes, Ann slips into the kitchen and pulls the lid back just enough for a cloud of steam and so many more incredible smells to drift up, full of spice and red meat and vegetable perfection.

Maybe she can get used to this. Coming home to a house and having somebody there for her. It’s...new. Even with caretakers when her family was gone, they mostly just made sure Ann ate _something_ , which wasn’t much in the way of care. With Ryuji, she knows she’s probably gonna have a good time eating, at least.

Or with whatever comes after.

She looks up when Ryuji peeks into the room, hair sticking up in places still wet with water, wearing only his boxers and a towel slung over his shoulder. “Hey, when’d you get home?” He’s sporting two great big bruises almost right on top of each other, purple welts with a vast expanse of yellow separating them.

“Jesus, Ryuji, your face.” Ann drops her bag on the floor coming over to him cupping his bruised face. Ryuji hisses as she pokes and prods it, looking at it like she can figure out what caused it.

“That hurts, you know. It’s no big deal, just an accident at work. Client whacked me with the weight bar.”

“Twice?”

“...Yeah, got me comin’ and goin’.” Ryuji smirks, and she narrows her eyes.

“Well, tell him to get a new trainer. What an asshole.” She stands up on her tippy toes, kissing him on the unbruised cheek. She raises an eyebrow when he starts giggling to himself. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure I’ll never see Ren Amamiya again.” She shakes her head and lets him laugh to himself, putting it down to his likely concussion. She returns to the kitchen table, throwing her bag on top of it and sitting down. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Ryuji walks over to the fridge, digging something out of the freezer and putting it over his cheek before leaning against the counter. “Just some shit I got on the way home. Stew beef and some potatoes, some other stuff. Mushrooms.” He knows how much she loves mushrooms. She can’t believe how nice that is, to have someone pick something out specifically for her.

“Well, it smells delicious.” She pulls a chair over next to her and pats it, and he sits down, so she can stretch her legs out onto his lap. “I saw Shiho today.”

“Yeah? How’s she?” Ryuji shifts, his smile only partially covered by the bag of vegetables. Even when they were in middle school, Ryuji always liked Shiho, even if she did nothing but give him shit.

“Oh, you know. Reminiscing, catching up.” She shrugs. “So...what if.”

“What if.” Ryuji says, turning to watch her.

“What if...we made this a thing. I brought over some stuff. More clothes, some decorations.” She nods to the living room, whose two sole occupants are a small couch Ryuji wrestled into the apartment alone and a TV that sits directly on the floor.

“I mean…” Ryuji trails off. “You’re okay with this? The apartment’s kinda shitty. The sliding door into the bedroom breaks half the time I use it. The water pressure’s crap, I can’t find what’s making the mildew smell in there either.”

“And we can only barely fit both of us in the shower.” Ann rolls her eyes. “I’m not talking about the apartment, dude. We can get another one. I mean us. Together?”

“Oh.” Ryuji sucks his teeth. “I mean, yeah, sure. I was kinda getting tired of an empty house, anyway. I thought I wanted independence, but it’s just…”

“Lonely.” Ann finishes his thought for him, having been thinking the same thing. “But...we can make a place, you know? For us.”

“Yeah.” Ryuji underhands the bag of edamame onto the table, taking Ann’s hand and gently tugging her into his lap. “I mean, shit. I’m probably the luckiest guy in Tokyo, if I get to make a home with you, Ann.”

She blinks, mouth opening and closing as she tries to process the flat-out compliment Ryuji just gave her. Finally, she just laughs. “We’ve known each other how long and you only just now start talking like that to me?”

“Shit, Ann, I figured you were just stringin’ me along for most of that. I like you, but—“ Ryuji’s protest trails off when she holds up a finger to his lips.

“Please shut up, you’re ruining the moment. How long do we have until dinner’s done?”

“An hour or so.”

“Perfect.”

* * *

In the dead of night (9pm; Shiho’s a permanent early riser with an early bedtime, even back in school), Shiho Suzui grumbles herself awake. Her phone has been buzzing on the nightstand for 20 minutes, the sound of the distinctive incoherent American yelling she’s had set as Ann’s text tone since middle school bringing her back to life.

“What the hell…” She fumbles for her phone, cursing as it drops onto the floor. Hanging off of the side of the bed, she unlocks her phone and scrolls down the chain of text messages.

 

 **Ann:** hey! He didn’t cook soba! Surprise!!!

 

Ann sent her a photo of a slow cooker, bubbling like a tar pit full of brown liquid and chunks of stew meat. It looks divine, and despite the late hour Shiho finds herself wishing she’d tried to get Ann to invite her over for dinner. Ryuji apparently keeps the kitchen pretty clean, too, based on that photo…

 

 **Ann:** check out what else he did, though…

 

Shiho keeps scrolling slowly, frowning at seeing Ryuji smiling and throwing up the peace sign with one arm. Why isn’t he…

Oh no.

He’s shirtless. And...sweaty, and red-faced, and his face is kind of scrunched up like he’s lifting something heavy. And as she scrolls down, she sees Ann bent over in front of him, Ryuji’s other hand on her ass holding her down. The photo is a long shot of her back and her face (god, what a shit-eating grin she’s got, too) down just at the edge of frame as she has apparently splayed herself out on...THE KITCHEN TABLE? AND SHE’S _ALSO DOING THE PEACE SIGN WHILE RYUJI_ **_FUCKS HER ON THE TABLE?_ **

“Nooooooooo…” Shiho groans, taking in all the horror inherent to the image, finally being confronted with the reality that her friends not only fuck, they apparently fuck where they eat.

They’re animals. ANIMALS!

 

 **Shiho:** what the fuck, Ann

 **Shiho:** I am NEVER eating ON YOUR FUCKING KITCHEN TABLE, EVER, YOU TWO ARE SO GROSS! ANIMALS!

 **Ann:** What can I say, I like to have my dessert early!

 **Shiho:** YOU ARE THE WORST AND YOUR BOYFRIEND STILL SLURPS HIS NOODLES

 **Ann:** oh you bet he does

 

Ann replies immediately with a cascade of peace signs and tongue emojis, and they keep coming until Shiho turns her phone off and hurls it across the room, crawling back into bed.

She’s never gonna be able to look either of them in the eye without seeing their o-face in her head anymore. Thanks, Ann.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say this'll be the last of them I ever write, but it feels like a good point to end on for them, right?


End file.
